


blood is on your tongue ( as well as your hands )

by saikis_whore



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is Bad at Feelings, Apology Book, Based on a The 1975 Song, Birds, Clocks, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Needs a Hug, Crying, Eating Disorders, Food, Insomnia, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Trust Issues, god i love them, he literally has a book with every apology he'd ever need, i am too, logan just helps him out like an annoyed mom friend, me too, patton c a n ' t c o o k., there's no actual blood in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saikis_whore/pseuds/saikis_whore
Summary: "  archaic and content, you just wash them off. "-in which roman knows that vulnerability makes him weak. and so, the only option left is to wallow in silence and do what he always does; play his role.( oh, but, the prince better be more careful with his lies. otherwise, he just might summon one of his kind: a liar. )
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based off of antichrist by the 1975.
> 
> this is just me venting and projecting onto roman,, have fun!
> 
> enjoy!!

A door with a room behind it is a mysterious thing. 

What could be going on in it? The possibilities are endless. 

A pile of stuffed animals, a library full of all the books one could ever possibly need, a collection of vinyls consisting of broken-up 2009 punk bands. A dead body, or a giant serpent there to eat you alive. All too probable, but, which could be behind a rose-red door at the end of a fairly-lit hallway? 

A mess. That's what it is. 

Behind the door is where Roman resided, now laying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. Eyes flooded, but dull. His face was left apathetic, save for the tears staining his cheeks, which crammed in emotion. As if it pained him to feel so much and so less at the same time. A pity. 

The cuckoo-clock on the wall read 5:32am. Far too late ( or was it early? ) a time for a side such as himself to be up, however, he couldn't help it. Sleep didn't seem to come so easily these days, wether it be for his host or himself. He would summon some type of insomnia remedy, but he fears he might breakdown in front of the others instead of on his own. It was best he get it out of himself beforehand. 

In all honesty, Roman wasn't sure what he would cry about anymore. He had a bit of an idea, but then the next day the problem would change to a different one, yet again. Funny. Fussing over insecurity after insecurity. When will the cycle end? 

The ceiling wasn't exciting. He would know; he's stared at it long enough. It was the more blander portion of his room. Nothing except plain white. His attention is drawn off of his thoughts as soon as he hears a familiar sound: "cuckoo!" 

A blue bird flies out and about the room, before landing on Roman's hand. The side lifts his arm up from it's position on the ground, moving it in front of his face. He allows himself to give a tired smile as the small bird sings out a small three-note tune, before closing it's eyes. It falls asleep, and Roman wishes he could do the same.

Being thrown out of his thoughts, creativity grows bored. He could risk getting up, but that would bother his new friend. It wasn't always that they stayed with him. The birds usually fly out of his room to annoy the others around the mindscape. Perhaps he should fix that clock. 

Instead, he decides to conjure up a plain golden cage. Placing the bird inside of it, he moves to stand up, watching the bird intently. It stays sound asleep. Roman sets it on top of his desk with the door open, it still deserves freedom if it wanted it. 

The clock reads 6:12am. The use of sleeping now is thrown out the window. 

-

Oh, how undesirable the effects of not sleeping are. 

Roman's tried his hardest not to let it all show. Foundation to cover the eye-bags, walking slower as to not fall over with exhaustion, thinking more before he lashed out. More like, he was _trying_ to think more before lashing out. Annoyingly, sleep-deprivation causes trouble with thinking and concentration. How dandy is that?

It wasn't. It wasn't dandy at all. 

-

He supposes— scratch that —he _knows_ he's hurt all of the sides at least once. His stupid moods and nicknames getting the best of him usually resulted in one of the other's feeling hurt. It was his thing, as villainous as that sounded. One might say it was routine at this point. 

_Roman hurts someone, oh no! Roman is bad. Roman apologises, yay! Let's all love that person more, even if they hurt Roman first._

He isn't stupid, as surprising as it may seem. He's seen manipulation tactic after manipulation tactic being used, over and over again. It all stung, but he was ready for it every time. The only difference is the way it's being done.

The apology book in a locked drawer in his room accompanied that fact. In it laid every apology he'd ever need to say, a section for each of the mistakes he's made with each side. Hell, there was even an apology for when someone finds the book. 

In present day, he walked down the stairs, a smile plastered onto his face. He looks up to find Patton near the oven with Logan right by him, pretending to read a book to secretly fix any mistake the dad character were to make. 

Roman wants to bathe in the comfortable silence, though he knows he'll be told off as being "too quiet", like he was some bomb that needed to go off and make everyone's morning worsen. 

"Greetings, padre and microsoft nerd! This is a wondrous morning to be eating," Roman glances at the odd shaped pancake, "Whatever that thing is." 

"Salutations, Roman." Logan only rolls his eyes, before taking a bottle of salt from Patton's hands and replacing it with sugar. 

Patton grins, proceeding to dump most of the contents of the bottle into the pan. "Hey, kiddo!" 

He takes his usual seat at the table. Everything felt so normal, including the feeling of excessive tiredness. He felt the need to lay his head down on the table and take a short nap. Putting his arms on the table, he wonders if the others would mind— 

Roman suddenly remembers where he is. He shakes his head, putting his hands back in his lap. How could he have ever even thought that? How could he have ever thought he could be as _weak_ as that?

He looks around the room to find that none of the two sides had noticed his second-long scene of vulnerability. He was okay. 

Out of nowhere, a plate is placed in front of him, with a stack of questionable pancakes with far too much syrup than needed. Upon looking at Logan and getting a nod of approval that yes, the pancakes were safe, he begins eating. At least little bit of food wouldn't hurt.

He looks up when he hears Virgil show up, hood-up with an annoyed expression. He was sure the darker side would get over it as soon as he's had a disgustingly sour cup of black coffee.

"Hello, Emo," Roman says with a plastic grin. Virgil hisses, causing him to recoil a little. It's been years and still he doesn't think he'd ever get used to that. 

It's been years, and was still so _weak._

Hatred fills his stomach, all directed towards the voice in his head. Why did he get to decide that? How did it make him weak? Even without answers, it seems to be all he knows about himself. 

Was that voice even his own anymore?

"Uh, Roman?" 

With a slight jump, he faces the culprit, "Yes?"

"Are you okay?" Anxiety asks with an eyebrow raise. 

_Oh, Virgil, no. Please just help me. Help me and maybe I will be. Oh, god, I can't breathe on my own anymore—_

_Yes._

The second option was always so much more appealing. 

"Of course I am! What makes you think I'm not?" 

"You blanked for a bit?" He replies as if it was obvious. Roman can hear the unwanted concern.

"I apologise, Virgil—"

"Woah, my actual name?" Virgil grins, "What did I do to deserve that?" 

Roman laughs along weakly, "Sorry," He looks down at his half-eaten plate, "I'm not hungry anymore." 

Patton turns around, "But you didn't even finish! Were they that bad?"

"They were absolutely delightful, Pat," He reassures, "I fear I'm just not in the mood. I'll get an apple or something later." 

Suddenly, Roman feels a small feeling on his arm. He looks down to find a tiny, yellow snake slithering into his sleeve. A warning. 

"Farewell! I shall return," And with that, he sunk out, appearing in his room. The last thing he sees are confused stares.

The small snake lifts his head up. It's oddly cute, he notes, the beady eyes staring up at him. They seem to be waiting for something to happen. 

All Roman does is lay down on the bed and ponder how bad it had gotten for it to get to this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IM SUCH AN IDIOT I DELETED THIS MPAMOW I WANNA DIE
> 
> but thanks to everyone who previously left comments!! I'm so sorry

Janus knew it was wrong. But, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

Really, was it was so, so wrong, to send someone a poisonous snake because you're fed up with how much they've been lying? Because the taste burns your tongue and makes you wanna throw up as if you drank a shot of cyanide after two bottles of alcohol?

The other side wouldn't get too bad. He made sure of it by allowing the snake to bite him, himself. As if recovering bite after bite wasn't enough work as it is, trying to get remus to conjure up something not too grotesque was a journey. The only thing the venom would do was make him a bit dizzy and stop lying for an hour. Simple.

To say he was annoyed when it had been an entire three hours and the burning feeling still came back every ten minutes would be an understatement.

As always, he would have to solve this himself.

-

Roman watched the snake slither around his finger, before it's head popped up, tongue sticking out cutely. He coos, wondering how something so poisonous could act like a fluff machine at the same time.

Suddenly, he hears a sweet birdsong ring throughout the room. His feathery friend from before perches on the chair, just before flying over to sit on the bed. Roman stares at them both, before placing the snake next to the bird.

The two look at each other, the snake staring with disinterest. The bird lets out a "tweet!" as he tries to nuzzle up to the reptile, only for it to hiss in response. Watching on, "You two are just adorable little things, aren't you?" The side says amusedly.

The calm silence is comforting as he watches the two species interact, and he finds himself falling asleep, before it's rudely interrupted by a loud knock on his door. The other two seem to be startled as well, with the bird panicking and flying around before settling back down, and the snake hiding it's face within itself.

"Calm down, I'm sure it's all fine." He reassures them, though it feels more like he was reassuring himself.

"What is it?" He says once he opens the door, face to face with someone he knew quite well was coming. "Oh, hello, Janus. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Shut up," Deceit replied, holding onto the 's'. "Where is the little failure?"

Roman watch as he entered the room, arms crossed, "I'm unsure what you mean. You forget yourself."

Janus walked around the room, looking at all the little details to find what he had came here for. That annoying snake.

"Oh, c'mon, False-ettos, I don't have—"

"There you are," Janus picks up the tiny animal off of the bed, who was still hiding. " _You did your job so wonderfully, might I say. I'm so proud."_

"I thought you sent it," Roman nods, "But what job, exactly?"

There is a sigh, and the reply concerns him. "Unimportant.

"What is important, however," He sets the snake back down, "Is an intervention."

"For what? I don't think any of us are doing drugs." Roman laughs. Janus scoffs, not being able to hide the small smile.

"I would trust you all enough not to if I could. Besides, I think we both _don't_ know what I'm talking about," Now much more calm, the liar walks over to the prince, grabbing both his hands in his own. "You lie, Roman. You lie a lot."

_No, I don't!_

_I know. ( He knows, too. )_

Curse that dreaded second option. He nods along.

"I don't want much from you, except an answer or two, I promise." He waits for Roman to nod, "Who are you lying to?"

Roman didn't know a question could effect him so much. He wants to avoid the question, so, so bad. Go back on the fact that no, he wasn't lying. Lying is for cowards to use to hide from their fears and— Oh.

When he notices his eyes beginning to water, he knows the man in front of him notices too. His face is as neutral as grey, save for the small, blue, pitying smile on his face. Strange, compared to his usual caliginous expression. It almost confused him what he'd done to be cursed to see such sympathy. It annoyed him.

"I don't want your pity." Roman muttered, looking away as tears begin to stream down his face.

The response is thoughtful, "I understand."

He was sure Janus didn't know what to do. He didn't either. Janus then wipes away the tears. Though his vision was a bit blurry, the feeling of gloved hands were unmistakable. Perhaps that should get him a thanks. "I'm sorry."

" _Please, do be,_ " Janus tuts, " _It is your fault._ You were simply _acting,_ after all."

Roman pulls his hands away, moving them to his side. His hands are fisted, he's sure they'll begin to bleed soon. Janus only stares before opening up his arms. As tempted as he is, he knows he is only going to use this against him. He's already trusted him too much. The snake and bird are close together on the bed.

_Go for it. You want to._

_It's so easy to toy with you. You're already trusting him, even after what he's done. Apologies are only things people say. We've learned this._

He shakes his head. He's much safer being cold and alone.

There's a brief moment of stillness where Roman believes he's done something wrong. Nothing moves. Until he looks back up to see Janus nodding.

"I want to help you. No games." He says, turning towards the door. "But you need to want my help, first."

Roman watches him leave. He didn't want his help.

The blue bird flies away to its golden cage, leaving the snake on the bed.


End file.
